Darkness and Shadows
by Wordmage Kazzidae
Summary: 'Wind blows, rain falls, the strong prey on the weak. All is as it should be.'


The fortress was full of many rooms like this one: grand halls with elaborate tapestries hung on the walls, massive rows of columns reaching up to the ceiling like ancient tree-trunks. Syndra often came back here, despite there being seemingly nothing in this room. But there were memories.

Syndra closed her eyes, frowning.

"_You LIED to me!"_

"_It was only to keep you safe, Syndra. Your thirst for power is dangerous: you need to learn to control it. Only in balance will you find true harmony."_

"_How does that justify trapping me here, tampering with my very magical essence to keep my soul in chains? Own up to your crimes, old man!"  
"I will admit, I am not proud of what I have done. There was simply... no other way."_

"_No other way? You could have told me the truth! You could have TRUSTED me!"_

"_You are but a child, Syndra: even if your intentions are good, you are still capable of folly. One would not give a sword to a child."_

"_This is not a case of giving, this is a case of theft! This power is mine by birthright! Would you steal my vision and strength as well? Would that make you happy?"_

"_Nothing about this makes me happy, Syndra, but as I said, the Council has deemed this the best route. It is not my place to question."_

"_Then stay true to your convictions, you doddering old fool; I'll defy them for you."_

Although the hall was silent, Syndra could still hear the echoes of the past ringing in her mind. It was on that day that she'd torn free of the Council's grip, killed her master and fled with what had once been her prison, now the symbol of her freedom.

It could have been different. It could have gone another way. Why did the old man have to be so stubborn?

But there was no turning back now. Ionia had decided to make an enemy of her, so an enemy they would have.

A whirring noise behind her.

Syndra didn't even turn to look: she 'felt' the objects as they flew towards her. Shuriken. Two. Aimed directly at the back of her neck. With barely a thought Syndra grabbed hold of them with her power and flung them back whence they'd come.

Something moved up in the rafters of the high-vaulted ceiling. Syndra felt rather than saw a strange, cold presence that shifted like quicksilver: it poured down onto the floor behind her and in an instant sprouted up to take on the shape of a man. A man bearing blades on his arms.

Syndra leapt forward, catching herself in mid-air and turning to face the threat – at the same instant that a deadly blade sliced through the space she'd just occupied. Syndra scowled and raised a hand towards the masked shadow: orbs appeared out of the empty air, crackling with dark power and already accelerating towards their target – a target that had been sneaking up behind her while she pretended to be distracted by the shadow.

He leapt backwards and wheeled to the side just as the orbs came crashing down on the floor beside him. Trickery had not worked, so now it was time for a display of raw power. Inside his mask, he smiled. This was the way things were meant to be.

Zed dashed towards Syndra, quick as lightning. Syndra responded by levitating herself up into the air beyond his reach – but Zed merely jumped up to meet her. Syndra grinned: another orb manifested in mid-air directly in Zed's path. Before Zed's very eyes the orb shifted into a spike, the point aimed directly at his heart.

Syndra felt that same cold something fly past her shoulder: it had no physical presence so she couldn't stop it. Zed's blood-red clothing faded to grey as his shadow passed harmlessly through the spike – which meant that the real Zed was now behi-

"Enough."

Syndra's power exploded outward from her body, a field of crackling purple energy that threw Zed back: he had just enough presence of mind to land on his feet, ready for Syndra's counter-attack. However, none came.

Syndra descended towards Zed on a staircase made of dark orbs that came into being with each step she took, several more orbiting around her. "It's been fun playing with you, Shadow Assassin, but I tire of this game. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't obliterate you."

A deep, husky sound resonated from inside the mask. Syndra realised it was a laugh, although it sounded more like a bark. "So it's true: you really are as powerful as they say."

Syndra raised an eyebrow. "That's what you came here for? To test me?"

"Of course. Everything is a test." Zed relaxed his stance, his blades sliding back into their sheaths. "You cannot be a worthy ally if you would not make a worthy enemy."

Syndra paused in mid-air, floating there with a look of puzzled curiosity on her face. She was familiar with hostility, but she did not sense any coming from Zed. Instead he was looking around the room in which they stood, his eyes darting to certain points as though analysing it.

"...There is death in this room," Zed concluded. "I can feel its shadow... not just in the room, but in your mind."

"Keep your cursed shadows where they belong." Syndra summoned an orb to her hand, glowering at Zed with killing intent.

"I have made no such invasion – I cannot help but notice the traces of death wherever I go, like a bloodhound senses fallen prey." Zed breathed deeply, his mask amplifying the sound and adding strange echoes to it. "Tell me... what had you so lost in thought just before I attacked?"

Syndra disliked the flow of this conversation. Time to take back some control. "You should know the answer to that. If what I've heard is true, you and I have very similar histories."

Zed nodded as though this was a given. "Why do you think I sought you out? We were both denied power, we both refused to accept the chains of 'balance', and finally..." Zed looked directly into Syndra's eyes. "We both slaughtered our masters."

"I killed him because I had no other choice," Syndra shot back.

Zed shrugged, the issue of death clearly one that meant little to him. He began pacing back and forth in front of Syndra as though he was already completely at home here. "I don't know why you feel ashamed: he tried to hold back your power and was suitably punished for it. That is how the world should be. His death was justified by the fact that he could not stop it. There is no justice in this world, no moral code, and there is certainly no 'balance'." Zed spat out this last word as though it was a curse. "There is only strength and weakness. The strong rule over the weak. The defeated do not deserve any rights, nor shall they get any once we force this world to see the ultimate truth."

Syndra smiled amusedly. "What are you, a missionary?"

Zed looked up at Syndra. Somehow, she knew that he was smiling back at her through the mask. "Of a kind," he answered cryptically.

Syndra looked down on Zed from on high. Somehow, she didn't hate him as much as the rest of the world. She steadily lowered herself to the floor beside him. "I find you interesting. Although I presume you didn't come all this way to test me just to share with me your worldview."

Zed let out a single derisive chuckle. "Hardly. I have a proposition for you."

"Oh? I never pegged you for the romantic type." Syndra smirked.

Zed remained entirely business-like. "Have no fear of that. What I propose is an alliance." He let that hang in the air for a bit.

Syndra responded. "...I'm listening."

Zed resumed. "It is said that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, although to be honest, from what I've seen of your power, you would be a worthy enough ally even if you didn't already hate the Ionians as much as I do." He was pacing again, this time around Syndra – but as soon as he tried to go behind her a dark orb floated up in front of his face.

"Stay where I can see you. I don't trust you enough to let you out of my sight."

Zed looked sidelong at Syndra. "Very well." Any further pacing took place firmly within Syndra's view. "I have spent quite a few years now building an army: a legion of shadow warriors that will eventually serve to destroy Ionia's precious 'balance'. For now, though, I am forced to bide my time. I am simply not powerful enough – yet."

Syndra nodded. "So that's where I come in."

"Indeed. I am surprised that you have not done as I have and gathered to you exceptionally talented individuals: those who see the truth of power and wish to unlock its secrets for themselves."

Syndra scowled. "I have no need of such lesser beings. My power is sufficient."

"But you can hardly be a Dark Sovereign if you have no subjects to rule." Zed had his arms crossed as he looked at Syndra. "Strength comes in more forms than just my shadows and your magic: there is also force of personality, the ability to impose your view of the world on others."

"Is that not what you've been doing to me ever since we began talking?" asked Syndra sharply, staring at Zed with eyes narrowed.

"It is. I understand that you do not like the feeling of being manipulated, but do you deny that the force of my argument stands on its own?"

Syndra had no answer to this. "Continue."

Zed nodded, knowing when not to push an issue too far. "To be absolutely honest with you, I find this flying fortress of yours to be quite amazing. The strategic applications of having a mobile base like this would open up a lot of opportunities for us."

"It isn't just a base," said Syndra equably. "It is also a weapon."

Zed paused. "How so?"

"Drop it on people."

"Ah." This appeared to amuse Zed. "Yes, of course. Have you tried that out?"

Syndra nodded sideways. "A few times. I need to get supplies one way or another. Being able to flatten an entire village in one go certainly has its benefits as a bargaining chip."

"Hm. That could be useful. But I digress: do you find my proposition favourable?"

Syndra mulled this over. "I assume that you would eventually want to bring this army of yours up here?"

"In time, yes. If you had failed the test I would have simply taken it for myself." Again, no hint of remorse. Zed spoke as if such things were merely laws of nature.

"If I die, this place falls. You can't control it without me."

"There are ways of keeping people alive and compliant. I could teach them to you, if you wish."

Syndra let out a breath. "I will consider your proposal, but in the meantime I would ask something of you."

Zed cocked his head questioningly.

"A gesture of good faith. Since you already have an army, many of whom are no doubt proficient spies, I wish you to find something for me – rather, someone."

"And who is this person?"

"No-one in particular. I merely wish to know if there are... others like me. Out there." Syndra grew strangely quiet. "Magically talented individuals who've been shunned and lied to because of what they are..." Zed said nothing, merely waiting for Syndra to collect herself. She soon did. "Find such people for me and inform them that they can have a home here, if they wish. Maybe then I will see for myself the advantages of having an army at my beck and call."

Zed bowed his head in agreement. "I shall instruct my men to do so. Any particularly exceptional individuals I will deal with myself. I always like to see raw potential with my own eyes."

Syndra smiled, pleased. "Then we have an understanding. Please, take this." Syndra raised a single finger: on its tip floated a tiny dark orb. "This will allow you to communicate with me, however far away you may be."

"Then we shall talk again in future." Zed took the orb, inspecting it curiously for a few seconds before tucking it away in the folds of his clothes. "Goodbye for now, Dark Sovereign."

"Until we meet again, Master of Shadows."


End file.
